


Photographs

by BeveStuscemi



Series: Before There Was Hell [5]
Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Pre-SH4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeveStuscemi/pseuds/BeveStuscemi
Summary: “Goodbye, Henry. We’ll meet again soon.”On his fourteenth birthday, Henry Townshend seals his fate with a conversation, a photograph and a beautiful backdrop.





	Photographs

Silent Hill was a photographers Heaven. Just beneath him, below the stone foundations of Rosewater Park, Henry could hear the small rippling of waves across the lake and the soft whistling of wind through the trees. The sun was still high with light dancing across the water and reflecting off the small waves, though the light wasn’t strong enough for Henry to shield his eyes. Holding up his camera, Henry took a photograph of the view and waited for it to develop. Behind him and sitting on one of the concrete benches in the centre of the park was Henry’s father who was nose deep into some novel. He noticed Henry looking at him and gave a small smile and wave before returning to his book. The photo finally slipped out from the camera and Henry shook it, now facing the lake once more. He could see the amusement park on the other side of the lake and the faint shouts and screams were still audible even a quarter mile away. His father said that he’d take him there if there was enough time but Henry was more than content to stay in the park and take more photographs for his scrapbook back home. He wasn’t too fond of loud noise and rowdy people and the amusement park seemed to be full of both. Henry much preferred the solitude and peace nature offered him more so than anything else and to waste the day in Silent Hill’s beautiful scenery was everything he could ever ask for.

Perhaps his love of nature stemmed from his shyness. Henry was often found in the school’s courtyard, taking pictures of the willow tree at the front of the school or collecting small rocks or pebbles to bring home and study. The teachers called him an introvert. The doctors called him autistic.  
“ _He’s a great student,”_ One of the teachers had said at a parent-teacher conference. “ _I just wish he’d contribute more in lesson.”_  
“ _His solo work is outstanding, he shows real promise.”_ Another had told his parents. “ _His grade only falls because he’s very reluctant to work in groups.”  
_ His parents would initially thank the teachers for their kind words but would grow irater as the night went on, his mother usually arguing with the teachers.  
_“Who cares if he doesn’t talk? It’s the kids that won’t shut up that are the problem!”_  
Henry had always found this slightly unfair. No matter how much one of the more popular kids would talk, they’d never be berated the same way Henry would for his quietness.  
“Be more confident Henry!”  
He was confident in himself and in his work. School measured confidence in how popular someone was, how many friends they had and how much they talked in lesson, not in ability or effort. Henry wondered what life would be like if he was the handsome, athletic boy with tonnes of friends and a cocky attitude, not the lanky, awkward nerd with messy hair and braces and...

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  
Henry jumped and nearly dropped his camera. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed a stranger standing next to him, arms resting on the metal railing and peering into the deep blue of the lake.  
“Yeah, it’s great. Really nice.” Henry stammered, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. The man was about ten years his senior and appeared to be in his mid-twenties.  
“It’s nice to come here, isn’t it? It eases your mind.” The man spoke with a low candace, with a voice so calm it made Henry want to sleep. He felt even more childish for being embarrassed.  
“Yeah,” Henry nodded. “It’s kinda…relaxing, i-in a way.” He cursed his nervous stutter, which always presented itself when he was anxious. The man ignored it, thankfully.  
“Is this your first time in Silent Hill?”  
“Oh, yeah. My dad drove me and my mom here for my birthday.” Henry pointed over to where his father was sitting, still reading his book. “My mom’s looking for souvenirs.”  
“That’s nice.” The man smiled politely, though the smile never creased the corners of his eyes. “How old are you?”  
Henry paused. He wasn’t sure that this man could be completely trusted but his easy smile, long blonde hair and relaxed stance convinced Henry that the man was the epitome of cool and that Henry had to keep talking to him.  
“I’m fourteen. Today.”  
The man gave another smile, though this one seemed more genuine. “Happy fourteenth birthday.”  
Henry smiled back, trying to hide his braces. “Thank you.”  
The man looked over Henry and his eyes settled on the camera he held in his hands. “Was that a birthday present?”  
“Yeah, I mean no. I mean…not one from this year. I got it last year.”  
“Are you an avid photographer?”  
Henry’s heart began to pump a little faster in the hope he shared common ground with this man. “Oh yeah! I try and take pictures whenever I can. You see this?” He held up his camera to the man and allowed him to inspect it. “This is the SX-70, it came out a while ago but I think it’s one of the best instant cameras I’ve seen. It’s got single lens reflex and pretty good focus, I actually got some film for it today.”  
“Have you taken any photographs today?” The man said, still looking over the camera.  
“I’ve taken loads.” Henry dug into his jacket and pulled out a dozen photographs, all taken around various areas of Silent Hill. “Wanna have a look?”

The man flicked through the photographs, eyes glancing over pictures of woodland, streets and shops. He spent a long time looking at a picture of Henry and his parents standing by the docks in Old Silent Hill, he smiled and handed the photos back to Henry.  
“They’re very good.”  
Henry beamed, eyes crinkled and braces on display. Nobody ever complimented him on his photography, save for his parents.  
“Thank you! I was considering using black and white film but I thought coloured film would be better because it’s a lovely day today.”  
The man nodded. “I agree, black and white film wouldn’t capture the beauty of the town.”  
“Do you take photos?” Henry asked, leaning over the metal railing, hair blowing in the wind.  
“Occasionally. I don’t really get the time.” The man’s eyes focused on the woodland opposite them and he sighed softly. “Besides, they never look all that good.”  
“Oh.” Henry felt a pang of sympathy for the man, he understood what it was like to be displeased with his own work. “You can have one of mine, if you’d like.”  
The man looked at Henry, expression unreadable. “Are you sure?”  
Henry gave a reassuring smile. “If you’d like. I’ve took a few of the woods, so you’re welcome to have one of those.”  
The man thanked Henry and rummaged through the photographs before pulling out a photo of dense woodland illuminated by the summer sun. He passed the remaining photographs back to Henry.  
“It’s very kind of you.” There was a slight sadness in the man’s voice and Henry chewed at his bottom lip. The man didn’t seem accustomed to the small act of kindness and it made Henry feel somewhat guilty. The two stared at each other, the sides of their faces baring the brunt of the sun’s heat and dark shadows cast over their noses. The awkward stare melted into a friendly exchange and suddenly Henry felt as though he was the most popular kid in the world.

“Henry!” In the centre of the park, Henry could hear his mother shout over to him, holding a bag of souvenirs from the nearby shop. “Henry, we’re about to go now. We’re going to get something to eat!”  
He never broke his stare from the stranger. “I guess this is goodbye then.”  
The man nodded. “I suppose you are correct.”  
“It’s been nice talking to you, I hope you like the picture.”  
The man looked at it once more and nodded for a second time before digging into his coat pocket for something. “It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t give you something of my own.” He passed a small envelope over to Henry before brushing past him.  
As he walked, he turned his head back to face him.  
“Goodbye, Henry. We’ll meet again soon.”  
“Hopefully!” Henry called back, waving to him.

After climbing back into the car, Henry sunk into the seat, head propped against the car window as he glanced over the cafes, restaurants and tiny shops dotted around the streets of Silent Hill. He ran his fingers over the brown envelope in his hands, remembering his encounter with the stranger on the overlook of Rosewater Park. Part of him wanted to know who he was, the other part relished the ambiguity. Eventually, the curiosity overtook him and Henry peeled back the envelope and a small piece of paper fell onto the car seat, next to his camera. No, not paper, a photograph. Chuckling at the idea of a photo trade, Henry picked up the photo and the humour faded into confusion.  
The monotone photograph depicted a door. A white door surrounded by walls adorned in faded plain wallpaper, ripped and frayed with drip moulding above it. Number 302.  
Henry frowned, there was nothing interesting about the door from what he could see. As he turned the photograph over, a strange sensation of dread settled in his stomach as he scanned over the red scrawl at the back of the photograph.

_21- RECIEVER OF WISDOM_


End file.
